Saving Me
by SoCalledLove
Summary: Roger's come to a realization, and he needs all of his friends, and especially Mark's help if he's going to succeed. A Withdrawal fic, MarkRoger Friendship.
1. I'm Falling

Rescue Me

Disclaimer: SECOND story time! I don't own them, I still wish I did.

Chapter 1: Worth Saving Me

It's been three days since it happened. Three days and Roger can still hear Mark's sobbing pleas. Three days and he can still hear the running water spilling over the sides of the bathtub. Three days and every time he shuts his eyes he can still see her. He still can see her eyes staring into nothing. He can see her red blood tinting the water a pinkish color. He can see her arms hanging over the side of the tub, tainting the floor as blood poured from them and into the pools of blood already existing. He can still see the note declaring her love, her apology, and his death sentence.

Mark tried to clean it up so Roger would not have to see it, tried, but he had failed. Maybe it was the tears pouring out of the filmmakers eyes or the tremors shaking his body. Whatever it was, he did not clean it up on time.

Roger came home to find his best friend sobbing and covered in his girlfriend's blood. His girlfriend lying dead in a bathtub, eyes glazed up and the ceiling.

"Roger, Roger please, get out of here. I'll fix it, just go" Mark cried and weakly tried to push Roger out of the bathroom.

Roger was too stunned to protest. He did see the note. It was taped to the mirror. Mark had missed it, Roger had grabbed it. It was a piece of paper, folded in half with his name on the outside. Roger mechanically reached for it.

_Roger_

_I love you, I'm so sorry. We've got aids._

_April_

Roger glanced back in his roommate, covered in April's blood.

His stunned emotions came pouring back into him. He forgot everything, nothing mattered anymore. Nothing but Mark and the blood. He darted back to his best friend, grabbed him and threw him out of the bathroom, away from April's body.

Not saying any words, he showed Mark the note. Mark stared at it for a full minute. Not realizing the near danger he was in, he looked at Roger.

"oh Roger, Roger, Roger" Mark cried, eyes filling up again with tears. Momentarily mourning his best friend.

"Mark. You have to get cleaned up. Her blood is all over you"

Realization crossed Marks face and he walked away from Roger toward the kitchen. When Roger heard the water running, he left the living room and walked back to the bathroom.

That was three days ago

Roger still could not get anything out of his head. He turned to the only thing he could to ease the pain, too keep his dreams from haunting him. He turned to his drugs, his heroin. It had killed her, he was dying, he had AIDs, and it was only a matter of time before he died too.

He could not stand it anymore. He missed her too much, he couldn't stand seeing her lifeless and bleeding every time he closed his eyes.

So three days after April took her own life. Roger found himself high, in the kitchen, holding a knife to his own wrists.

He would have gone through with it, but there was something holding him back. Something that was making Roger hesitate, keeping him from suicide. He did not really want to die. He wanted to write a song, he wanted his glory. He wanted to smoke a cigarette and sit on the balcony. He wanted to have a shot of vodka and discuss the meaning of life with Collins. He wanted to see Maureen's protest against the new homophobic candidate for mayor. He wanted a peaceful moment with Mark, lying on the floor talking about nothing. He wanted a lot of things, and dying was not what he wanted

What he didn't want is Mark to have to clean up the mess of his suicide. Mark practically killed himself cleaning the bathroom, alternating between scrubbing and sobbing. April and Mark had been friends, they were close. But they were nothing like Mark and Roger. Roger knew that it would destroy Mark to come home and find him dead, the kitchen floor soaked in his blood.

He couldn't do that to Mark.

When Mark did come home, he did not find Roger dead on the kitchen floor. He found Roger sitting on the couch, a small box in front of him.

"Rog, what's going on"

"Mark, Mark, I need your help"

Mark's expression went from worry to confusion. "Anything Roger"

"I don't want to die sooner than I have to. I need to stop" He said, glancing up from the floor and into Mark's eyes. He reached out and opened the box. It had needles. It had small packets of white powder and a few other items of drug paraphernalia.

"Can you help me?" Roger said, eyes pleading.

"Of course I will" Mark said, smiling at his roommate.

Chapter 2: Prison Gates


	2. Prison Gates

Chapter 2: Prison Gates

Disclaimer: Thank you Jonathan Larson. I don't own Mark or Roger or Rent or anything.

Authors Note: This story is what happened during that "half a year of withdrawal". Hope you like it. Let me know what you thing. Thanks Nuerin for reviewing! I'm glad you like it!

"_First shot: Roger, tuning the fender guitar he hasn't played in a year."_

"_This won't tune"_

"_So we hear, ha.. He's just coming back from half a year of withdrawal"_

June 25th, 1989. 9 am Eastern Standard Time.

Mark found himself in a building he had not entered in years, if ever at all, the public library that was located at the corner of Avenue A and 11th Street.

Collins was at the loft with Roger. Less then 12 hours since his last hit, and he was already starting to show what Collins said were signs of withdrawal. He was restless and visibly agitated.

Mark was sitting at a large boxy computer, his hands awkwardly placing themselves on different keys. The plastic chair behind him was stiff and ridged, creaking at the slightest move he made. His camera bag sat by his feet. He was warm in the library, and it was empty. It was June, no school kids were there working. His eye's scanned the screen intently. He had been there for about an hour, making some progress, but not much. He didn't even really know what exactly it was he was looking for. The librarian, a motherly looking woman had come over to him when he first settled down and asked him if he needed any help. Mark politely declined, but the woman had been shooting him long, thoughtful glances every ten minutes since then.

He slowly typed words, glancing down at the keyboard with every letter he needed. The computer was agonizingly slow, but it gave him the information he wanted and told him which books he needed. He had never really worked at a computer before.

He typed in words like "addiction" and "withdrawal symptoms". Lots of information came up, some useful, some not, that he then combed through. He started off with just one book, but he now had a stack of books next to him. He flipped through them, marking pages and writing things down on pieces of paper he had taken out of one of the library printers. He felts like he was back at school, researching for a paper. In reality it was far more important then a paper on the first amendment or some novel he had read. He was researching how to help save his best friend.

When he agreed to help Roger he had no idea it would be this hard, but if Mark could pull this off, it would be worth it.

Flashback 

_June 24th, 1989. 11pm. Eastern Standard Time._

_Roger sat on the worn couch in the loft, his hands shaking. Mark was next to him, one arm rubbing small circles on his back and whispering words of encouragement into his ear. Collins sat across from them, his eyes questioning without prying. He sat patiently, waiting for Roger to speak. Maureen, the fourth roommate and Mark's girlfriend, sat Indian style on small table between Collins and the two boys. She had always liked to be the center of everything, but this time, she wasn't even talking. She could sense the tension in the air._

"_I'm going to stop the drugs. All of them, everything. They are doing nothing but killing me faster" Roger said, after a full minute of science. His voice came out almost mechanically, the words came from part of the conversation he had with Mark not an hour before._

_Mark and Roger decided it was important that their other two roommates, and great friends, Maureen Johnson and Tom Collins, that Roger wanted to quit. Roger would need their help as well. Benny, or Benjamin Coffin the Third, as he was now dubbed in mocking by the four friends, had just moved out, taking up a more comfortable residence with his new girlfriend in Westport. _

_Collins looked thoughtful and Maureen leapt up, hugging Roger. "That's great!" She shouted, her loud and powerful voice echoing in the small and silent loft._

_Roger and Mark both looked at Collins. The older, intelligent philosopher had always been a hybrid between and older brother and mentor to the two boys. They listened to his words and took his advice very seriously. They knew he was thinking, for he didn't join in Maureen's cries of excitement._

"_You guys know this is not going to be easy" Collins began, glancing at the three friends. Mark and Roger nodded and Maureen's smile dimmed a little and she glanced between the two boys and Collins._

_Collin's sighed before continuing. "Maureen, I think you should move out"_

_This was not something Mark or Roger and defiantly not Maureen saw coming. A chorus of "WHAT?" and "WHY?" filled the apartment, as Maureen quickly moved from her seat on the table to the arm of the couch, gripping Mark's hand._

"_Why Collins? There is more room now that Benny left." Roger started_

"_I'm a good roommate! I pay my share of the rent! I buy food when it's my turn! I clean up after all of you!" Maureen cried, before turning to Mark "Don't let him do this, Pookie!" she begged._

_Mark was silently questioning Collins as well. His eyes never leaving Collin's, one hand still circling on Roger's back, the other now encased in Maureen's smaller hands._

"_Not for long, hopefully not for more than two weeks or so. If Roger's going through withdrawal he is not going to be an easy person to live with. However, I believe in many cases heroin withdrawal bears its worst front for a week or so and then subsides." Collins said cautiously._

_Roger looked horrified. Mark's expression at first was blank, than a look of realization crossed his face._

_Maureen was still crying for Mark to say something, do something, anything. Mark loved her that much she knew. Contrary to the accusations that Roger sometimes spit at her while he was high, she loved Mark too._

"_Baby, he's right" Mark said, softly, eyes pleading for Maureen to understand. His words were so quiet Maureen almost thought she didn't hear them correctly. She stared at him, waiting to see what else he would say. _

_The couple stared at each other. Roger got up and began pacing around the room. Collins watched the two while keeping mental track of where Roger was._

"_Pookie...Baby, you can't be serious." Maureen began. Mark soon interrupted her. He couldn't let her keep talking. Everyone knew Mark would do what Maureen wanted, but this time he could not let her get her way. This wasn't about where the couch should go in the loft, whether or not they should have sex that night, or who could pay for dinner. This was far more serious._

"_Maureen… I can't have you here. He could hurt you; I don't want to have to worry about you. I need to help Roger." Mark said again. Roger stopped pacing and stared at his best friend who refused to meet his eyes.  
_

"_I would never…" Roger began each word enunciated and slow. His anger was already coursing through his voice._

"_That's just it. You would never. Withdrawal might" Collins said, his tone of absolute certainty settling the matter once and for all._

_Mark turned back to Maureen, his blue eyes were wide. They begged her, pleaded that she would understand._

"_I can take care of myself, Mark. And I want to help Roger too! I'm his friend too!" She said, separating her hand from his and standing up._

"_I know.." Mark said_

"_Fine. Fine. I'll leave if you don't want me here. I'll go stay with Seth" She said coolly. Hurt apparent in her voice. Mark felt his heart skip a beat. Seth was a guy who owned a performance space that Maureen did some of her protests at. He wanted her, and had no problems flirting with her even when Mark was around. _

_There was nothing going on between the two yet. That Mark was sure of. He also knew that if he let Maureen leave something would happen between the two. He could feel it._

_He wanted to stop her. His heart was begging him to stop her, but his mind knew better. It was going to be dangerous. She could easily get hurt. How would he feel then? Mark decided he would rather see her safe in the arms of someone else then hurt and with him._

_Within an hour, Maureen was gone._

"_Mark…." Roger started. He wasn't entirely sure what he was going to say._

"_Don't worry Roger, we'll get you through this." Mark said, signaling that he didn't want to talk about it._

_Roger knew how much Mark was sacrificing for him and it was all the more reason for him to succeed._

End Flashback 

June 25th, 1989. 11 am Eastern Standard Time.

Mark took the papers with his notes scribbled about them and tucked them into his camera bag. He walked out of the library and headed back to the loft.

From what he wrote down, the three boys had a difficult few days coming up.

Mark did not know half of it.

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